Of Gods, Endings, and New Paths

January 10th, 2011

So, I’ve decided to retire Heart Full of Black. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, along with many other thoughts floating through my head.

Heart Full of Black, for me, has served its purpose.

See, I think everything happens for a reason. Everything. Sometimes I look back at the paths I’ve walked in my life, and I can see how each thing led to another thing, everything finally bringing me closer to where I am now, where I’ve needed to be.

See, I’ve always know, deep down, that I was meant to be a healer. As a child, I was empathic, and had an intuitive, though unstructured, idea of energetic healing. But, I was an Indigo child in a very non-indigo home, so I tamped most of it down.  And I didn’t think I had it in me, so, I took a vastly different path. I went to work with the dead. And even there, I had the chance to help people heal, though in a vastly different way than I ever expect.

Now, its time for me to go down that path. I have come into a wonderful sense of calmness and assurance the past two weeks, after several months of spiritual confusion – particularly since a deity had shown up in my life and requested attention. I had posted on twitter, a few days ago and had a conversation:

” Hm. In my head, lately, I feel like woo-things had been fighting for my attention. It seems like they’ve stopped. Either I’ve settled on a path, or things are about to spring up again. A few weeks ago, it was pretty intense, and I’ve had no revelations. :-/”

Anon, my sweet, lovely brilliant fiance said “you don’t need revelations to have a meaningful spiritual experience. Simple awareness is usually enough :)”

Me: “true, but I feel like im waiting for something to happen”

Anon: “i have felt that way most of my life. What i learned is that you the anticipation you feel is real but it could just be the universe that is in anticipation of you”

He’s right. The universe has been waiting for me, and now I’m ready.

Odin also manifested in my life as well. He showed up in the flesh, three days in a row in September. I dreamed of making spears. I had a vision of a dedication to Him, and his name and image kept popping up in my daily life.

Now, I’ve come to understand why, I think. I have always loved Norse mythology, though it was never a spiritual path that I followed, though I have a great attachment and attraction to many of the stories. I’ve been planning a tattoo of His ravens and a quote for some time. He is someone who I would most definitely notice, and would definitely pat attention to, because in my experience, he is not someone I would imagine would come to me (though, I don’t generally imagine anyone would come to me.)

I had though that He had wanted my direct service to him. But I never got a sign or feeling that that was what He wanted. I think He showed up as a remind to me that, as I felt, it was time to make a choice and walk my path. I couldn’t ignore Him, after all!

I’m done with my massage training, at least what I need to satisfy the state. I have worked to the satisfaction of my Sensei, and its time for me to go forth and do Shiatsu, and to continue studying the healing arts. I’m ready, and that is the time of life I am at.

It is also time for me to focus on the semi-neglected spiritual part of my life, because that is entwined with my healing path.

Now. This does not mean that I am leaving the scene, because I am not. I’m still a pervert. I’m still going to have kinky sex with Anon. Still going to have fun poly sex. Still going to events, still gonna be on twitter. I’ll still teach, if people want me to teach. Hell, I’ll even probably be blogging, just not here anymore. I’m going to leave this site up until the domain expires, but then it will be gone.

See, this sex blog helped me learn and grow and become the sexual person I am. It helped me meet wonderful people, and have wonderful experiences; I grew as a top, I grew as a human being, and because of this path, I had the chance to meet Anon (according to him and his Guides, several years before we were supposed to meet. Now, we’re walking down these paths together, which is more than I could ever have dreamed of.

And I’m also tired. I’m tired of blog drama and catty sex blogger fights and people acting like assholes to each other. Tearing each other down, getting inflamed over the slightest stupid thing. I’ve got to say – life is much more shiny and fun on this side of the fence. Just sayin’.

But now, I have Reiki to learn, and more classical Chinese medicine to study, and who knows what else. I have a business to build. I have even more people to meet and to learn from. I have a new city to move to and settle in, and I’ve got a person I want to build a life with. I’ve got so much in front of me!


I have another blog, where I’m sure I’ll be posting stories and such – tales of massage, musings on whatever I want. But it will be a personal blog, not one just focused on sex. Here.

I’m also going to keep up my tumblr blog – sexy photos, cute stories, quotes, and pictures of adorable animals.

I’ll be on FetLife too, as Wendy Blackheart.

So really, this isn’t a goodbye for me. Just a goodbye for this blog – you can’t get rid of Wendy Blackheart that easily!

Submit this content to FetSpank.com

Three Ways and Reflection

October 27th, 2010

Two years ago, I wrote about how much I hate threesomes. I wasn’t quite honest in that post.

Recently, I have been dealing with the fall out of my assault being re-triggered.

These are related, trust me.

I have also been reading quite a bit about ethics. I’m reading a book for school called ‘The Ethics of Touch‘, a book about ethics and professionalism in somatic bodywork therapies. It is the basis of much of the Professional Development material taught in my school, which I was also re-reading lately. ‘The Ethics of Touch’ is an excellent book that covers many topics related to bodywork. Its funny, to me, how many of my BDSM and poly skills translate to BDSM. The first thing they taught us was reflective listening, and how to talk in ‘I’ statements. We spend lots of time talking about boundaries, and consent and other lovely things that more people should talk about.

We also talk about the ethics and professionalism required for working with someone who has a history of sexual trauma, as I mentioned in the last post. This is difficult for me most of the time, because *I* have a history of sexual trauma, and while it wasn’t difficult discussing it last semester, after the bullshit of this summer (which I will eventually write about, but for now, it will be vague and confusing. Deal.) it has been difficult getting through the material, though I find it valuable both for my profession, and for myself

Something about it stirred up the memories of that stupid three way.

It was a party, at my house. St Patrick’s day – basically a bunch of us, twenty or so, hanging out and drinking excessively. We were all over 21, so my parents were find with us drinking in the house. It was better, they figure, then being out at a bar and having to get home. We all lived within walking distance, and there were some non-drinkers as well.

My friend M and I had been having a weird flirting thing going on for years, since we were in middle school. We hadn’t seen each other for a while, due to a stupid fight involving a boyfriend of mine, but it was high school, so eventually we got over it. Our sort of friend, sort of guy that we couldn’t stand, but who had some sort of weird friendshippy type connection with us all, and who was at the party, also had a flirty thing going on with her. We’ll call him A.

He had appeared back on our radar during a weird, post-graduation summer, when M was home. He and I didn’t really like each other – at least, I didn’t like him. Before this party, M and I had gone with another friend, J to a goth club one evening, and A was there (and it turns out he was there with another guy I had a brief fling with. Awkward!) A kept trying to touch me, and eventually got close enough to put his face in my cleavage, and bit my breast. I tried to put my cigarette out on his bald head, but J stopped me and got him off. (I was slightly crazier at this time, and trying to put a cigarette out on his head might have seemed like a reasonable response)

At the party, it came to a head, and he and I were getting rather competitive over our flirtations, particularly as it didn’t seem like M was all that interested in him either. I know I was rather drunk – much of the night was rather fuzzy, but a good fuzzy. M was drinking as well. I’m not sure if, or how much, A was drinking. But I think he realized he had an advantage.

The party was split between my living room, where the TV was, and my bedroom, where the computer was. M, A and I were in there with a few other people, when A managed to shoo them all out and lock the door, locking M and I in. I was not pleased, and tried to unlock the door, but he blocked me, and then M when she tried. He was not violent, but he would not let us leave my room. I don’t remember what happened in detail after that, but eventually M and I realized we weren’t getting out of the room unless we had some sort of sex with A. So we did, and we went back to the party.

I realize, looking back, that that was icky, wrong, unethical, and very, very bad. Regardless of the fact that we, several times after that, did it again, does not make that first time any less fucked up. It was coercive, and M and I were in no fit state to consent. We weren’t even in a fit state to think that, if we banged on the door, or caused a scene, our friends outside would make him open the door.

I’m not sure if I should call this sexual assault, but I do know there was much sublimated anger in towards A. It didn’t help that, eventually, he came to treat me as a sexual accessory, while M and I considered ourselves all equally involved. It all ended in about a month, at a party M had where there was more drinking and sexy times, though all the sexy times I engaged in at that party were both fun, and consensual. M found out A had a girlfriend who he’d been cheating on, which pissed her the fuck off. Now, by that point, the three of us were no longer having sex. At some point, A tried to food around with me, and I said no. Then he tried to kiss me, and I punched him. After that, things were pretty much put to bed. We had an awkward car ride home (the party was at her school, several hours from where A and I lived) and after that, he and I never spoke again. M and I lost touch for a few years, and now keep up with each other on facebook.

I’m not sure how to process this all, except that it sucks, and it happened, and perhaps I stuffed it down, down, down. Oddly, I’m not angry about it now. I’m not upset, I didn’t cry writing this, and I feel only antipathy towards A. Though this is likely why I tend to dislike MFF three ways.

Its odd, because I am still full of so much rage towards Marcus and his actions. Maybe its because I was older, or because it was more recent. Likely, though, I think it has to do with the face that I was mentally healthy when Marcus assaulted me, where as when things happened with A, I was not medicated for any of my issues. In one case, I was starting already kind of broken, and the other, I started whole. I have a feeling that might be the key, and that may be why I harbor so much rage towards Marcus. He didn’t just take away my agency, he didn’t just violate me, he took away something I had worked so, so hard to build, which was my sense of self as a whole, healthy, happy person.

Submit this content to FetSpank.com

aaaaaand, I’m back!

October 20th, 2010

Or at least, I shall try to be back. Who knew that the last semester of schooling, the process of getting a license to practice massage in NYS, prepping for tests and regular sex in an awesome relationship would keep me too busy to write?

As it is, I am in my last semester of school for massage therapy, where I am working on honing my Shiatsu skills, as well as taking a focus on Western style work.  The scary thing is, its such a big huge world of information and skills, and I’m a little daunted at the idea of trying to compile it and put it to practice. Plus, I have a strong feeling my semi-formal education isn’t over yet, as I would like to continue studying Reiki and Rising Star Healing systems, as well as continuing to take as many classes in Shiatsu and TCM as I can – to say nothing of continuing to work with my Swedish skills! Oye!

But, winter is the proper time to be doing all this – its a time of quiet and gathering and preparing for the bloom of spring, when things are new and growing!

It is also the time for planning other things – at DOSC 10, Anon and I got engaged (after participating in a Tantra ritual – explain that one over dinner with your parents!) and I’m going to be moving to Philadelphia (and trying to get my license there, oy vey. I’m a busy girl!) when school ends, likely at the end of December. Though I’ll be here lots in January, since I have tests to take, and classes to take to prep for the test. However, I’m looking forward to making Philly my new home, and may be starting a new blogging project related to the move, which I’ll mention when it happens. I’m also looking forward to building a life with Anon, who is full of buckets of awesome!

I have also been in a weird emotional place. Right before Floating World this year, though unrelated to it, I had a huge triggery unpleasant episode related to my past sexual assault, which I had thought I had put to rest. Silly girl I am, because I thought I could deal with this through sheer force of will, and boy was I wrong. I have been unable to find a therapist in NYC that is 1) kink friendly, 2) versed in PTSD and sexual assault and 3) that takes my insurance or that I can afford. I’ll be looking again for someone in Philly, since I will also be working then.

Its rather frustrating, because lately things have been coming up and getting right up in my face about that. Its like a spiritual clue-by-four whacking me over the head and say “Deal with this shit now!”. I can’t be an effective healer if I am still broken. I can be an effective healer, having been broke. In fact, I think that will make me stronger. When I have progressed on my own healing path, I can help others.

I’m not saying I can’t be an effective massage therapist while I’m dealing with my issues – I can, and I am. I am finding more and more that I’m not just good at what I do, I am very good at what I do. And I can continue to be very good, and get better, at what I do. And I want this.

But there are many things I want. First and foremost, I want to build a private Shiatsu/Asian Bodywork practice. I want to learn Reiki. I’m considering Rising Star Healing as well, after more research. (I got a treatment, and it was AMAZING!)

But while I was reviewing my notes for Professional Development classes at school, I was reading through the chapter on working with survivors of trauma and abuse, and of course I was all upset because it was reminding me of things I didn’t want to think about, but it also made me think – these are the people I’m supposed to work with. This is where I can do some really good, meaningful, work. There is extensive training needed for body workers who want to specifically work with trauma survivors, but I think, once I’ve gotten my own shit together and sorted, I can, and should, do this. So we’ll see what the future holds.

Submit this content to FetSpank.com

Scarleteen Blog Carnival

October 18th, 2010

Ah, Scarleteen. I can actually remember a time before Scarleteen – they started up in 1998, when I was in 8th grade. See, I went to a school where 99.9% of our sexual health information was from an abstinence only program.

The school sex ed actually started out ok – in grades 3 and 5 we had health classes where we learned about the human body and how it works. In 5th grade, we separated out into groups of just boys and just girls, and got some of the details of puberty and what would happen to our bodies. We learned where babies came from and all that before the abstinance only programs were started.

By high school, however, we were not getting much in the way of good information. We didn’t learn about birth control at all – it wasn’t even mentioned, not even in a negative way. We saw lots of photos of what STD’s can do to your body. But nothing I would consider really useful. Very little mention of alternative sexualites. Very little information on how to deal with interpersonal relationships. I can remember the anger from teachers, some of whom I had as teachers in my past sex-ed and health classes, at not being allowed to teach properply. I’m pretty sure that one of the teachers, who continued to push the envelope, was fired or quit, as she disappeared shortly after.

Hell, my younger sister went through the same program right behind me, and she didn’t even know that blue balls wasn’t a real thing that she needed to be concerned about. She gave many an un needed blow job before one of her boyfriends set her straight.

People argue that schools shouldn’t be involved in sex education, and that it should rest on the parents of children to teach them instead, but this has problems too. When I, at a young age, found a copy of an age-appropriate book on where babies came from and started to read it. I read *everything* at that age. (I think I was about 6. I started to read quite early.) My mother found me reading it, took it away, and slapped me.  My later maternal sex education included gems like “You don’t need to go to the gynecologist, you don’t need to go until you are married” (At the time, I was 2 weeks into my first period, which would last for another 2 weeks. I probably should have seen a doctor). At 22, she told me that I shouldn’t do something until I was married (she made weird hand gestures explaining this). Generally, all sexual health questions were answered vaguely, incorrectly, and with anger.

However, I, even as a youngin’, tended to be extremely pro-active about things I wanted to know about. I rode my bike to the library, and got whatever the current new edition of the Teenage Body Book, and other sexual health text books. I had been given an adult access library card since I had already read my way though most of the age appropriate fiction and had moved on to adult fiction by then. Thankfully, my mom was tired of having to go to the library to check stuff out for me on her card and got me my own.

So, I have always been a big fan of outside research for sex education. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t know half the shit I know today, nor have the skills to find them out.

Scarleteen was the only site I found on the internet at the time that I trusted. They gave honest, accurate information in a relatable, understandable non-judgemental day.  By the time I was checking the site regularly, most of the information was already known to me, but it became, for me, the gold standard of websites. When people came to me for information, I sent them to Scarleteen. When they had a question I didn’t know the answer to, I sent them to Scarleteen. When I needed to give someone information about something, I sent them a link from Scarleteen. All of my youngest sister’s friends used Scarleteen, because part of my drive-by sexual advice (I used to wander by and drop a tidbit off ‘Never use oil based lube with latex condoms!’ ‘Some antibiotics make birth control pills less effective!’) was a link to their website. Because no matter how cool of an older sister I was, there were still things they didn’t want to ask me yet.

To me, the idea that we had to go looking for this information was so sad. I sincerely wish that schools were all required to have honest, comprehensive sexual health information. This is information we all NEED, to be healthy, effective adults. That fact that we don’t have this is a sad thing – but thankfully, there are resources like Scarleteen available to kids and teens today to get them the information they need.

I’ve noticed, at least in my own little bubble, differences between the kids who have access to this information and those who didn’t – my sister and her friends are much more pro-active now about maintaining their sexual health, and dealing with issues with their partners. So far, none of them have had an unwanted pregnancy, which is not something I can say about my graduating class. They are willing to talk, and ask, and question in ways my generation wasn’t quite ready to to yet – and this is only an age difference of seven years.

What also is important to me is the fact that many of these children are LGBT, Queer, or questioning, and they have a fabulous resource available to them while they figure themselves out, again, something my generation was only just starting to have.

Scarleteen was an important stepping stone in my sexual education. Because of them, I was able to go into my early sexual experiences with knowledge and agency. I was able to make good decisions, and I was happy with the decisions I made. Actually, I waited quite a while before I finally had sex, and again, was able to go into this experience physically and emotionally prepared. These are Good Things. All kids should have that opportunity. (The Sex Readiness Checklist was a great resource for that, BTW. I think it should be given to anyone who ever may have sex, ever.)

We’ve made leaps and bounds in a remarkably short amount of time in non-standard, alternative sexual education and information, and the accessability for those who need it to find that information, and that is a beautiful thing.

However, unsurprisingly, this takes money. Scarleteen does not have any federal, state, or local funding. The majority of their funding comes from private donors, and to continue to provide such outstanding service, they need donations! Scarleteen has always managed to provide outstanding information and outstanding services on a tight budget, and I can only imagine what they could do with more. They’ve done such good work for so many, and I for one want to see them continue to do this work!

So, if you can, I encourage you to donate to Scarleteen! They do so much good for so many kids and teens who need it. That’s all I can say – donate if you can. Hell, in a few more generations, we might even be able to get good sexual health information back into the schools, if we can educate enough of the kids today who will turn into the administrators of tomorrow!

Submit this content to FetSpank.com

Fluids and Humiliation

August 24th, 2010

So last week was probably one of the top five most awful weeks of my life, peaking with a crying breakdown in a classroom at The Floating World. However, The Floating World itself was a fucking awesome event, and a really wonderful way for me to end the week on a high note – I had great scenes with my boy and with friends, I had my classes go fantastically, I watched my boy make out with another girl and was totally cool with it, and basically, had good times.

I will be writing about them soon. I will also eventually write more about the icky times I had last week – but first, I want to write about face pissing. Pissing in generally, really.

Lately, I’ve found that I enjoy doing things that are a little humiliating to Anon. (Speaking, if you are going to Dark Odyssey Summer Camp in September, and either are a friend, or identify as female-type, join the “Pee On My Boyfriend!” invite on the DO Attendees site!)

Something about pissing is both fun, humiliating and very, very sexy, especially when I do it to Anon when he isn’t expecting it.

Sometimes, I have Anon help me get off, but I don’t let him get off – this is particularly mean and humiliating after I’ve kept him in denial, and he really really really wants to come sooooo badly, but I’m being super mean and saying no.  The last time I did this, about a month ago, I had a super awesome orgasm, and then immediately dragged Anon into the bathroom.

I tossed him into the tub, and had him start jerking off while I pissed on his face, grabbing his head by the hair.

I must say, the combination of all sorts of fluids, combined with the obvious humiliation at having to masturbate to orgasm while I’m pissing in his face was quite delightful to watch!

I did this again over the weekend at the hotel  during the Floating World. The pissing in his face bit, not the making him jerk off bit. Though I did get off a whole bunch first. We had some thoroughly lovely morning drilling me into the mattress sex, which ended with Anon getting a face full of messy pee after I had a bajillion orgasm from Anon’s penis. Good time.

The best part of peeing on someone in a hotel is that when we’re done, and about to take a shower and forgot the towels, I don’t mind getting out and trailing a bit of pee from my feet through the room because hey, its not my room! I don’t care if pee gets on the floor!

Remember that next time you’re staying in a hotel.

Submit this content to FetSpank.com